“I did it!” he
grinned, looking down at his chained hands, trying to still the tremble of his
right.
“You
did, but we have a long way to go yet,” the
voice of reason said.
Dark
eyes focused on the dead Captain America, a soft smile gracing battered
features. “You looked so good,” he whispered, feeling his heart thud painfully
in his chest. It had been so long since he’d seen Steve, truly seen him. Not a
figment of his broken mind.
It was heaven and
hell being so close and yet impossibly far from the one you loved.
Clouded eyes gave him
a tender look, “You ready
for part two?”
An
ironic smile pulled scarred lips, “Let the fun begin.”
They had confined him
in a small interrogation room, chained hand and foot to the floor. Fury no
doubt waiting for the others to gather before deciding what to do with him, he
wanted to laugh the way they treated him. He almost wanted to scream and yell,
give free reign to the insanity boiling so close to surface.
Shaking his head, he
pushed the thoughts away, his job wasn’t done yet. Thinking over his next move,
the chained man absently raised a hand trying to itch his nose, grunting when
he couldn’t quite reach.
Frowning, he looked
down at the shackles, “Really no need for these,” he mumbled, pulling at them,
testing the strength.
“Can’t
imagine why they think you’re dangerous,” The
dead man said, expression stoic.
Tony sniffed, “Sassy
pants,” he grumbled seconds before he gave the chain a hard yank with his metal
arm. It snapped like it was made of plastic.
Hands free, he broke
the chain linking his feet next, setting the broken metal on the table. Rubbing
his still real wrist, he flexed his fingers circulation returning once more.
“Show
off.”
Grinning, Tony dug blue
hair elastic out of the pocket. “You know you love it,” he quipped. Gathering
his shaggy dark hair, he tied it off in a high ponytail, winking at his
constant companion.
Done, he stood moving
around the cheap wooden table heading for the locked metal door. Dark eyes took
it in before he turned to the camera tracking his movements. He gave the lens a
small cheeky salute before yanking the door off the wall, completely stepping
into the empty hallway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere in the vast
SHIELD compound, the Avengers watched the man’s rather easy escape with mixed
feeling; their biggest worry was if the man was dangerous.
“Sir, he’s headed
here,” Agent Hill announced as she hurried into the room looking uncertain and
panicked. Fury shifted, uncertain if he wanted to send more Agents up against
the man; it hadn’t worked so far.
“I think he’s coming
up here to talk, we should let him,” Steve looked offered looking resolute. “He
saved my life today.” The others muttered doubtfully, only Tony held his peace
looking thoughtful.
Before more could be
said, the stranger was entering, and the silence was suddenly deafening.
No one said a word,
eyeing him warily as he strode forward, ponytail atop his head bobbing with
every step. Steve unable to help but notice the way he moved, contained, ready.
Arms flexed under they skin tight material of his shirt he wore, chest
protected by Kevlar.
The silent man
settled at the end of the table, looking around with a wistful smile. “Well,
the eye patch quota in this room just went up,” Tony joked, wanting to break
the sickening tension. Steve looked at him a mix of amusement and exasperation,
before turning back to the man all in black. Surprised when he saw the odd man
smiling.
Amused, the unknown
moan leaned back in his chair, crossing thick arms as he pinned Fury with a
look, “You figure it out?” he asked his voice a husky rumble.
The Director drummed
his fingers, reluctant to admit the truth, “Not yet, no.”
The other grinned
ruefully. “How about we skip the inevitable argument and disbelief and let the
DNA speak for itself.” Curious piqued Fury nodded to Banner, the scientist
approaching hesitantly.
“Not that side Doc,
you won’t get anything there,” he said, holding out his right, while tucking
his left under the table. Bruce frowned, studying the man now that he was able
to get a better look.
Stark knew the second
he figured it out.
Shocked, Banner
reared back, jaw dropping. “Don’t spoil the surprise for the kids,” the dark
headed man said softly, Bruce could do no more than nod mechanically.
The others watched
intently, curiously, as he pricked a finger collecting the blood in a small
device used to quickly verify identity. The device beeped within seconds,
confirming Bruce’s suspicions as he looked from him to the results and back.
“Throw it up on the
screen,” he offered. With a few quick motions the Doctor did, and an
uncomprehending silence filled the room. The test was accurate within 0.01%,
and currently it was reading 100% match for Anthony Edward Stark.
The looks of stunned
disbelief around the table where hilarious. Stark couldn’t help but grin at all
the fuss he was causing.
“You’re
loving this, aren’t you,” his
ever-present voice commented drily. He glanced at his dead Captain, sending him
a sly smile.
“JARVIS, can you run
it again?” his younger self was saying then, his voice rather shaky. He had a
kind of shell-shocked look about him. Not that he could really blame him; he
didn’t think he’d believe it either.
“What is going on?”
Clint finally ventured bewildered.
Bruce was still
eyeing him speculatively, “I think we’d all like to know that.” The man in
black tucked his arms inside his Kevlar, a habit he’d picked up long ago during
those too cold nuclear winters.
“Where to start, “ he
mumbled rolling his single visible eye upwards in thought.
“Are you Tony’s son?”
Steve was having a hard time getting his mind around what was happening.
It was the Tony of
this time who answered. “No…he is me, the DNA is a complete match.” They all
turned back to him, the centre of the room once more.
“Gold star for you, I
am you and you are me…and before we get too existential about it, I am you 100
years in the future.”
Utter silence.
“How?” Bruce
finally managed as he studied him, then turned to the other Tony. “You don’t
look all that much older…just sort of….” he trailed off, looking for a
diplomatic way of voicing his observations.
Tony from the future
decided to help him out. “Like I’ve been through a meat grinder? No
worries, you can say it, pretty close to the truth actually.” His scarred lips
pulled mulishly, “Aside from that, yeah, not aged all that much.”
He focused on his
past self over the table sadly, “Spoiler alert, side effect of the arc; slowing
of the aging process. I’ll be a 138 next month.”
Suddenly felt badly
for this past Tony, he knew intimately the horror that knowledge brought with
it.
“I’m from the year
2113,” he offered then, drawing the attention back to his true purpose.
“This is all well and
good,” Fury hesitated.
“Stark,” the
future supplied.
“Stark, but why are
you here specifically?”
Here they came to the
crux of it, he had a moment to make a decision. He went with the bitterly
honest truth, “I’m here to change the past, in an effort to prevent certain
future events from happening.”
All teasing and jokes
aside, he leaned forward in the chair, face smoothed and flattened hiding away
any emotions. Burying away all the pain as he had learned to long ago.
“Tread
lightly my love, it will be difficult to swallow,” he
hummed his agreement, not bothering to glance at the other, but taking heart
from his imagined presence.
“In two weeks, the
Avengers will fail to prevent a massive insurgence of alien life forms. It’ll
be the end of days, the second coming, whatever the hell you want to call it.
The point is we fail, and civilization as we know collapses into utter chaos
and desolation.” There was no point sugar coating the truth, the sooner they
came to terms with it the faster and more helpful they would be to him and his
mission.
“Tactfully
done,” he ignored the sarcastic words.
“This is a joke
right?” Tony asked looking around the table almost frantic, apparently not willing
or not wanting to believe.
Fury spoke slowly,
“The Avengers will fall?”
Stark’s one good eye
took on a far off look, “Without our leader we fell apart,” his whispered words
shook them all. His voice too pain filled and anguished to be a lie.
“I’ve spent years
trying to figure out what went wrong. I managed to narrow it to three very
specific events, within a three-week period. Which is why I am here now.” He
glanced around the table at the varying degrees of shock, and disbelief.
Waiting patiently as they worked through what he’d said.
“Why? The odds of you
succeeding are astronomical,” the Tony from the present spoke softly, but it
gave the other hope he was perhaps starting to accept.
“I know that, I’ve
done the math, run the numbers countless times. In the end though, it came down
to one stupidly simple thing; hope. If there is even the slightest chance I
could change at least one of the outcomes, then it was worth it.” His good eye
settled on Steve then, alive, healthy, if a little dirty and disheveled
looking.
“It worked,” he
smiled at him tenderly, drinking in every movement and expression in those
clear alive eyes, “If nothing else I saved you.”
Bruce processing what
had been said, came to the realization first, “Steve was not meant to walk away
today, was he?”
The new Tony shook
his head mournfully, for the first time his façade cracking the bleakness and
sorrow creeping into his features, “Captain America was supposed to die today.”
He looked away from
the live, beautiful Steve to his own, personal ghost. Smiling softly in those
lifeless eyes, he collected himself. Dwelling on what might have been was not
going to change the here and now.
Exhaling slowly, he
pulled himself away from that ever-threatening darkness, focusing on the task
at hand. Unbidden a sudden thought occurred to him then, he was back in
2013…with all the trappings of modern North American society. His lips lifted
slightly in an anticipatory grin, “Right, well, talk amongst yourselves, digest
that, I’ll be right back.”
With that, he stood
leaving the conference room. The argument erupting before the door closed.
“Well
I think you could have handled that a little more delicately,” Steve
commented.
Snorting, Stark
meandered the hallways head swiveling this way and that. “Did you want me to
lie? People don’t time travel to the past to change the future if everything is
all rainbows and unicorns.” His dead companion laughed, and Stark grinned
finally spotting what he was looking for.
Happily, he stood
before the drink machine, damn close to hugging the sugary beverage dispenser.
“I
should have known this was what you were after,” he
commented, smiling lovingly at the dark headed man.
“Are you kidding me,
after the second wave… I’d kill for a Coke.” Hurriedly, he reached into his
pocket pulling out the clunky metal credits that passed for currency in his
time. “Damit!” he cursed, recalling he needed actual money. Brow furrowing, he
turned back to the machine contemplatively.
“Tony,
do not break the machine.”
Sighing dramatically,
he tried to convince his companion, “Ahhh come on love, it’s not like they can’t
afford it. I think my present self can pay for it anyway.” The imagined man
crossed thick arms across bloody chest wounds, shaking his unnaturally pale
head.
Muttering mutinously,
he glared at the drink machine a few more minutes before catching sight of
Agent Hill pretending not to be following him around. “Prefect, Agent Hill can
you spot me a couple bucks?”
Hesitantly she
approached; he tried to give her his most charming Stark smile.
“You
look like a sick duck,” the amused voice
said.
He dropped the smile,
“Please?” Slowly she handed over several dollars. Thanking her excitedly, he
turned to the machine quickly punching buttons, his right hand trembling in
excitement.
Hearing the distinct
thump of the can falling, he fished it out very carefully. Opening the beverage
he sipping slowly, closing his eyes in bliss.
Agent Hill ventured a
little closer, squinting at his face. She wasn’t quite sold that this was Tony
Stark from the future.
Enjoying his first
taste of Coke in more then half a century, Stark was slow to realize he was
being intently scrutinized.
“I’m
not sure if she wants to punch you or kiss you.”
Tony glanced at her,
“Probably punch,” he mumbled, turning to face the Agent fully. “Yes?” he asked.
She cocked her head,
“Are you really from the future?” He nodded curiously; her next question was
not unexpected. “Is it really that bad?”
He paused for a
moment, a multitude of answers running through his head, “Not if I can help
it.”
She reached past him
then feeding more money into the machine, before handing him another drink with
a sad smile, “Once a hero always a hero.”
He felt like he’d
been punched in the chest as he slowly accepted the offering tucking it in one
of his many pockets. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, trying to ignore the
tremor in his voice.
It had been a long
time since someone called him a hero.
An all too familiar
voice echoed in his head, “See, the
world will never forget their heroes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is insanity,
are we really going to believe what this guy is saying?” Clint demanded,
glaring at the others.
“DNA doesn’t lie,”
Banner said, sitting back rubbing his temples.
“I believe him,”
Steve said firmly, using his no nonsense tone.
“You believe anything
Tony says…even if he’s claiming to be from the future,” Clint snarled. Tasha
elbowed the archer harshly, as the big blond blushed looking down at his hands.
“What about you Tony,
you buying this?” all eyes turned to the man who’d been uncharacteristically
silent. The dark headed genius staring at the table, expression closed.
Tony Stark had always
considered himself a man of science, believing in what he could see and touch.
Since being with the
Avengers however, he was beginning to realize he needed to start taking things
on a little more faith. To learn to listen to his instincts, and every fiber of
his body was screaming at him that this was the real thing.
This was him or at
least will be him, and he was telling them that today Iron Man had been too
late. Steve Rogers should have died.
It made his chest
ache terribly, his knees shake, and his hands tremble. Only able to focus on
that single horrible thought running through his head; Steve was to die.
“Earth to Tony, you
with us?” he glanced up, realizing all eyes were on him and he hadn’t a single
clue what they had said.
He shook his head,
trying to push away the anguish for a moment, “Yes, sorry what?”
Sighing, Fury held up
his hands, “Look, after all the things we’ve seen, I’m willing to go on a
little faith.”
Just then the door
opened, and the man, Stark, entered a can on Coke cradled in his right hand.
Carefully he set the drink down first. “So, how’s the debate going?” he asked
mildly, moving to pull the velcro on his protective Kevlar. Tugging the vest
off, he set it on the table before settling in his chair once more.
Without the thick
protective layer, the others could clearly see his form outlined in the tight,
black material beneath, including a familiar pulsing blue glow. All eyes
fastened on it, as he delicately sipped his sugary beverage like it was a fine
cognac.
“Ok, I’m sold,”
Clint muttered, holding his hands up in surrender.
The man from the
future rounded to him. “Seriously? The DNA wasn’t what did it for you? It was
the reactor?” Snorting, he shook his head, ponytail bobbing, he cocked his head
before turning to look at empty space beside him, muttering under his breath.
“Stark, we are
willing to go along with you, not saying we believe you. But if what you say is
true, then your information is invaluable. I think you should bunk down with
the others and we’ll meet tomorrow to go over everything you can tell us.”
Satisfied Fury stood, “Gentlemen and lady,” he departed briskly, leaving the
awkward group.
Alone now, they all
cautiously studied the man as if he might explode. “Well, this is all horribly
awkward and uncomfortable, how about I stay at hotel or something,” he offered.
Steve already
interrupting him, “No! You should stay with us, at the Tower.” He blushed
wildly as the single visible eye looked at him with a tenderness that he
couldn’t fathom.
“Yes, you’re staying
at the Tower,” Tony echoed firmly, not meeting his own eyes for the moment.
Stark couldn’t help
the warmth that spread through his chest, it was good to see them all again. He
had missed them, missed this more then he’d care to admit.
“Right, well I can
meet you there, I have couple things to do…pretty sure I can remember the way.”
With a small salute, he collected his now empty can and headed out of the room,
mind already moving onto his next objective.
Tossing the garbage
in the recycling, he moved to the locker rooms, first and foremost on his mind
a shower.
“I’ll stay with him,”
Steve watched him go avidly.
“You sure, Steve?”
Bruce asked seriously, glancing to Tony half expecting him to protest, but the
genius looked distant and confused.
“Yeah, I’m sure,
we’ll see you back at the Tower.”
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